


be a little braver

by EmeraldTulip



Category: High School Musical: The Musical: The Series (TV)
Genre: Episode Fix-it, Episode: s01e10 Act Two, First Kiss, Gift Giving, M/M, Missing Scene, Pet Names, Short Circuiting Carlos Rodriguez, and the cut scenes, disney won't say gay rights so I will, obligatory Ashley Tisdale mention, of course of course, pre show gifts you know, the kiss we deserved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-11
Updated: 2020-01-11
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:07:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22211530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmeraldTulip/pseuds/EmeraldTulip
Summary: Carlos wants to kiss him.It hits him like a train, how much he wants it. He wants it more than he’s ever wanted anything in his life—more than choreographing a whole new show, more than money for college, more than Broadway. None of that seems to matter anymore.Or:Carlos and Seb get the kiss they deserve.
Relationships: Everyone & Everyone, Seb Matthew-Smith/Carlos Rodriguez, the whole cast loves each other okay
Comments: 21
Kudos: 165





	be a little braver

**Author's Note:**

> okay I lied I finished my other wip update faster than I thought I would and then I watched the hsmtmts finale and felt a lot of things BUT ALSO majorly disappointed at the cut seblos scenes and the fact that the two straight couples got to actually kiss but seb and carlos didn't. so anyway I wrote this because I want it.  
> title from the song wondering from hsmtmts.  
> I hope you all enjoy!

“Carlos!”

He turns around at the sound of his name, a grin instantly making its way onto his face when he spots Seb jogging toward him, his costume jacket on but not the rest of the outfit.

“Hi,” he greets Seb. “I was just looking for you, actually.”

Seb looks surprised, for some reason. “Oh, really? Me, too.” He flushes. “Obviously, because I called your name and—okay, stop me from talking now please.”

Carlos laughs, taking Seb’s hands. “I have something for you. You know, like… a pre-show gift.”

“Oh!” Seb brightens. “I do too, actually, in my jacket backstage.”

“Come on then,” Carlos says, tugging on his hand. “Yours is in my bag.”

There are some people milling about in the lobby before the doors open, but the way backstage is in the opposite direction—either way, a thrill goes through Carlos when Seb laces their fingers together at the thought of someone seeing them; at the thought of Seb being _okay_ with that. Pushing through the backstage doors, Carlos finds his backpack on a counter before Seb locates his coat on the rack. He digs through the front pocket and pulls out the gift, hiding it behind his back when he turns back to Seb.

Seb flushes as he rummages through his pocket, finally pulling something out that fits in both of his hands. “You can go first,” Seb offers.

Carlos shrugs in acknowledgement. “Okay, before I give you this, please imagine me, age five, starstruck and adorable.”

“Done.” Seb looks confused but he acquiesces, nodding after a moment of consideration to let Carlos know that he is indeed imagining it.

“Ta-da!” Carlos presents the DVD, and Seb’s eyes go wide.

“No, Carlos, no, I can’t—”

Carlos extends his arm more aggressively, almost forcing it to Seb’s chest. “I didn’t know it then, but I see now that Ashley Tisdale signed my copy of _High School Musical_ so I could give it to you more than ten years later.” He takes one of Seb’s hands—the one not clutching whatever Carlos’s present is—and places it on top of the DVD. “It’s for you, okay?”

“Carlos…” Seb swallows, hard. “This is… I don’t know how you could possibly part with this.”

“Easily,” Carlos smiles. “As long as I know it’s going to you.”

Seb reluctantly takes the DVD, peering at it with a rueful smile. “See, now I feel stupid.” He sets it down on the counter and holds out his hands, fingers still closed over the object.

“It’s not stupid,” Carlos answers automatically.

Seb laughs. “You don’t even know what it is yet!”

Carlos crosses his arms. “Yeah, and I won’t until you show me. So…”

Seb makes a face but unfurls his fingers, revealing a small red flower. “It’s from my garden,” he explains. “I thought… you might need a something for your lapel.” His smile turns shy. “The color reminded me of homecoming.”

A part of Carlos suddenly wants to hide his face because he _knows_ he’s blushing. Instead, because opening night jitters have made him bold, he slides a hand under Seb’s. “Put it on my jacket?”

Seb grins, casting his eyes down, and then he steps closer and Carlos forgets how to breathe. Seb carefully pins the flower onto his lapel, his fingers brushing Carlos’s collarbone through his T-shirt, and when he’s finished he doesn’t pull away. Carlos is suddenly hyperaware of his heartbeat, how Seb can almost certainly feel it, and he takes in a long breath to try to stabilize himself. Then he hears Seb’s exhale waver a little and he realizes that Seb is almost certainly equally as nervous.

Carlos wants to kiss him.

It hits him like a train, how much he wants it. He wants it more than he’s ever wanted anything in his life—more than choreographing a whole new show, more than money for college, more than Broadway. None of that seems to matter anymore. It would be so _easy_ , because Seb is right here and they have the room to themselves and Seb’s hands are already on him and it’s quite literally the perfect timing and—

“Ahem,” Natalie raps on the door, and Carlos startles so badly that Seb’s hands are thrown off of him. Natalie grimaces, looking more than a little apologetic. “Sorry to interrupt, but it’s ten minutes to showtime and Kourtney’s freaking out about your makeup, Seb. And Carlos, Miss Jenn is looking for you.” She hesitates for a moment, as if there’s something else she wants to say, but then she just nods and says, “right, yes. Good.” Then she spins on her heel and marches away.

Carlos sighs a little—the moment is gone. Seb has already tensed up, and his nerves are suddenly palpable. He offers Seb a reassuring smile, though he knows it’s weak. “We should get ready,” he says.

“Yeah,” Seb says, his voice a little dry. He coughs. “Yeah, we should.”

* * *

Carlos aches at the thought of Seb awaiting his first cue backstage without him, but Miss Jenn has him running all over the place. Tech is a disaster, if the blaring halftime alarms are any indication, though Red is holding down the fort. Gina and Kourtney seem to have gotten their costuming and coordination together, but dear lord, it’s a mess. Charlie the prop master fainted and Natalie is covering for them, which leaves Carlos to grab her headset at inopportune times to tell another actor to get to the wings. He wishes more than anything that he could watch Seb perform Status Quo.

“Go,” Natalie says, snapping him out of his reverie.

“Huh?”

“Go,” she repeats, shoving his hands away from the prop table where he has only been successful in tangling three different sets of earbuds connected to iPods. “You’re not gonna be helpful until you get your boy off your mind, and the number is starting.”

She doesn’t need to tell him twice, and he takes off for the wings. Sure enough, he can hear the Status Quo runs even as he barrels through the backstage door. He unfortunately catches the back of Seb’s head before he disappears onstage, and Carlos sighs before tiptoeing forward. He can’t help but sing along to the chorus as it builds, his eyes on Seb the entire time he ascends the staircase.

Seb is honestly an amazing actor, and Carlos isn’t just saying that out of favoritism. Seb is the sweetest, kindest person he knows, and he can transform into the cold and bitchy Sharpay on command to the point where Carlos isn’t completely sure if it’s entirely an act. And his _singing_ … the hair on the back of his neck stands up as he listens to Seb’s powerful belt, holding his breath when Rico reaches to do the leg spin and Seb nails the timing. Carlos grins as Seb lifts into the air, if only momentarily—it looks amazing, and was a great choreography piece if he does say so himself.

He sees Gina hit her mark and watches Nini with her tray, grinning at the ridiculousness of the prop spaghetti. He knows Seb finds it funny, too—they laughed about it during rehearsals—but again, he’s fallen into the character and maintains his face. He storms offstage, Rico trailing behind and then taking off backstage with a small smile, and the second they’re out of view of the audience Seb’s shoulders drop from his nearly-regal posture, his face breaking into a smile as he spots Carlos.

“Seb, that was amazing!” Carlos whisper-cheers, clasping his hands together. “I’m so proud of you!”

The hug is somewhat abrupt and Carlos stumbles back a step, but his arms fold around Seb in return as soon as he understands what’s going on.

“That was terrifying,” Seb mumbles into his neck, and Carlos strokes the knob of Seb’s spine with his thumb. Then he feels the grin widening on Seb’s face, pressed into his shoulder. “That was amazing.”

* * *

Intermission is too much, _too much_. Ricky has disappeared, EJ is standing in his place, Stef rolled her ankle, Ashlyn can’t find her glasses, and oh god Carlos is wearing the Danforth jersey. There is no way this could go right.

He misses the flower on his jacket. Also, his shoulders are cold.

He’s backstage helping Natalie with props—competently, this time—when Ashlyn runs up.

“Carlos,” she pants, clearly struggling from running in her flats. Carlos is thankful at the sight of her glasses clutched in her hand, but it’s immediately canceled out by fear-fueled adrenaline at whatever she’s distressed about now. “Seb—Bop to the—Top—wings...”

Now, Carlos has no idea what that means, other than the obvious thing about Seb and Bop to the Top. He knows Seb will nail it—they’ve been rehearsing it for weeks, and Rico has gotten much better at leading—but Ashlyn sounds panicked. He takes off, following the sound of the piano until he finds Seb fidgeting in the wing, stage right.

“Seb!” he calls. “What’s going on? The music’s been vamping for so long I feel like I’m stuck in an elevator.”

He doesn’t quite know what he expects, but it’s not for Seb to turn around with a wild look in his eyes, saying, “I don’t think I can do this.”

“What?” Carlos shakes his head. “Seb, you’re the _only_ person who could pull this off. What’s going on?”

Seb’s fingers clench and unclench for a moment before he grabs Carlos by the shoulders and turns him until he’s peering through the curtains and into the audience. “See that huge crowd of blond people with the signs?”

“Yeah.”

“My family bought out _three rows of the bleachers_ ,” Seb groans, hiding his face in his hands.

Carlos still doesn’t get it. “So, what? You did great in act one.”

“That was before I _saw_ them out there!” Seb hisses in response, immediately wincing. “Sorry. I just… I don’t want to let them down, or have them be ashamed of me, or… anything.”

“Come on.” Carlos is the one grabbing Seb’s shoulders this time, feeling a little tilted from the reversed height difference due to Seb’s tall shoes. “Seb, you _got_ this. Your family wouldn’t be here if they didn’t support you, and you proved yourself already. Now, count your blessings, and dance your heart out.”

“I’m not—“

Carlos can’t stand to hear more self-doubt, so he leans up and kisses him. On the cheek, granted, but still. “I would actually kiss you, but, you know, makeup,” he says, and Seb’s face is red and pleased so he’s at least glad he did that job well. “Bop to the sky, baby!” Carlos grins, giving Seb a light push until he steps into the spotlight.

* * *

Back in his suit, Carlos lets out an ungodly shriek as the cast files into their green room after curtain call. Kourtney joins in, then Ricky, and soon the entire cast is just _screaming_.

After he runs out of air, he sits down heavily on a stool that happens to be near him, his legs feeling weak. After months of planning and rehearsal and drama… they did it. What the hell, _they did it_.

“Carlos,” Seb calls, and he’s instantly on his feet again.

“Yeah?” he asks, walking over to Seb’s station, where Seb’s bag has been pulled open to reveal his casual clothes (that aren’t really casual at all, considering the tie).

Seb grins up at him, a little shy. “Help me get this stuff off of me?” He offers Carlos a pack of makeup wipes, and Carlos takes one from the back and pulls up a chair so they can sit knee to knee.

He’s careful not to poke out Seb’s eye—because wouldn’t that be a nice gift—as he works the glittery pink and yellow off of his skin. It’s another moment where he’s overly aware of every movement either of them make, like the flex of Seb’s jaw under Carlos’s hand on the other side of his face, the way Seb’s eyelashes flutter whenever Carlos makes another pass with the wipe over his already closed eye.

He lingers a little longer than he probably needs to, the pink streak mostly out of his hair and off of his cheek, then makes quick work of the little black star under his other eye.

“Thanks,” Seb blushes up at him when his eyes open again. “I should, uh… go to the bathroom to change.”

Carlos casts a quick glance around before leaning in and whispering, “Miss Jenn gave me a room behind the stage for, you know, a mini-office for planning and stuff. Don’t tell the others, she said they’ll get jealous. It didn’t burn down or anything, and it’s probably nicer than the bathroom, if you want.”

Seb stands and slings his bag over his shoulder. “That would be _great_ , public restrooms are _bleh_.” He punctuates it with a wrinkled nose. “Lead the way.”

Carlos does, grabbing his own backpack and letting his hand naturally fall into Seb’s as they walk down a quiet hall. “You were amazing, you know.”

Seb huffs out a laugh. “Well, it was only an accumulation of a lifelong dream.” He taps a finger on the back of Carlos’s hand. “By the way, my mom texted me. She wants to meet you before we go.”

“Oh,” Carlos says. “Wait, this is my room. Why?”

“I mean, I talk about you a lot,” Seb says shakily as Carlos unlocks the door. “And, you know, we’re…” The door pops open and Seb jumps at the noise. “I’ll, uh, be right out.”

The door clicks behind him, and Carlos is left with whatever _that_ was.

 _You know, we’re…_ Carlos and Seb? Or one-word _dating_? There’s a difference. They haven’t said the b-word yet, even though logically, Carlos knows that’s what they are. They went to homecoming, after all. They hold hands. Carlos calls Seb stupidly sappy names and Seb smiles at them. They kiss, kind of?

Then the fact that Seb is his boyfriend _Seb is my boyfriend_ bursts into sudden clarity, and Carlos has to lean against the wall for a moment. Holy shit, he really does have a boyfriend.

The door swings open and Seb steps out, his hair now slightly less stiff and glittery, his button up tucked into his jeans and his tie just the perfect amount lopsided. “Are you g—”

He never finishes the sentence, because Carlos reaches out and kisses him. A _real_ kiss, now that it’s quiet and Seb’s lips aren’t tacky with gloss and there’s no fear over the stage makeup getting smudged. Seb makes a confused noise for all of about one second before Carlos hears the _thump_ of Seb’s bag hitting the floor and his arms wrap around him.

He never wants this moment to end, _ever_ , because he’s with the most beautiful boy he’s ever seen in front of the room where Carlos’s best ideas have been made in the school that really has been shaping their lives since they were _children_. And he never wants this moment to end because kissing Seb is so much better than what he thought kissing could be, because Seb responds to his movements and tilts his head just right so that Carlos’s neck doesn’t ache and somehow their breathing is coming intuitively even as Seb dives in for another kiss. Carlos can’t resist running his hands through Seb’s hair, still a little stiff from the hairspray but by all accounts marvelously blond and fine and soft.

“Carlos,” Seb says after a moment.

“Shut up,” Carlos says, pulls him in by his tie, and kisses him again.

He’s flailing for air like he’s drowning but he can’t stop, and there’s a tiny part in the back of his brain that reminds him _Utah_ and _gay_ and _wrong_ but then he shoves it back down because there is _nothing_ about Seb that isn’t right. For a wild moment he wonders if he’s the only one who hears the bad voices, if it’s just him, but then he realizes that it can’t work like that—Seb must hear them, too, and he doesn’t seem to mind.

And even if he sort of feels like he’s dying, like his heart will start beating so hard it melts, it’s incredible.

“Carlos,” Seb repeats, a little more insistently this time. He presses another kiss to Carlos’s lips, much more chaste, and laughs a little when Carlos follows him as he pulls away, holding him back by his collar. “Babe, I’m serious, we need to go find our parents.”

Carlos grins. “Yeah, but maybe you should take a minute.” Seb’s face is bright red, his hair staticky and still rather glittery, and his tie is even more crooked than before.

Seb makes a face at him. “You’re one to talk.” He reaches out and smooths down Carlos’s hair, briefly kissing him again even as he does so, and Carlos knows that even if that problem is solved, his case of Blushing Face just got a whole lot worse. Carlos returns the favor and then locks the office door, offering his arm to Seb.

“I left something with my parents for you, actually,” Carlos comments nonchalantly as they walk back to the lobby.

Seb grins, wide, and lets his hand fall from Carlos’s arm to his hand, squeezing. “Well, let’s hurry up, then, I want my family to meet my boyfriend.”

It’s just a word—one that was already in their shared dictionary, just under-utilized—but Carlos can’t help but blush, his smile now uncontrollable.

They turn the corner and are instantly faced with a large group of blond white people, and Carlos’s first thought is _oh let’s not do this again_ , because white people in Utah are just _great_.

Then Seb cries, “Mom!” and hugs one of the women, dropping Carlos’s hand to do it, and Carlos registers that these (thankfully) aren’t his racist next-door neighbors. The entire family collapses into a hug, and Carlos is worried Seb will get squished in the middle, but he thankfully emerges unscathed and gestures at Carlos. “Everyone, this is Carlos. Carlos, this is my mom, my dad, my sister, my cousins… well, Carlos, this is everybody.” He cuts himself off before the list goes on forever.

A girl who can’t be much older than them, maybe EJ’s age—Seb’s sister, Carlos assumes?—gives Seb a very mischievous smile. “Your boyyyyyyfriend?” she asks, and Seb sticks his tongue out at her.

“Georgie, come on,” he complains. “Be nice.”

She puts her hands up in defense. “I _am_ nice! I just have to look out for my baby brother, no boy is gonna screw that up.”

“¡Hola, mijo!” Carlos suddenly hears, and he turns to see his mom.

“Mama!” he yelps, giving her a hug. His dad is standing next to her, and he’s a bit more reserved—which Carlos understands—so he just offers a handshake. Carlos takes it. “Uh, Seb,” he says, gesturing for his boyfriend, “I think it’s obvious that these are my parents. Mom, Dad, this is Seb.”

His mom snaps her fingers. “Oh, the one you told me to hold onto these for,” she realizes, and only then does Carlos notice the bouquet in her hands.

“Right, thanks, Mom,” he smiles, taking the bouquet. “Seb, these are for you.”

“Carlos!” Seb protests again—he’s been doing that a lot tonight.

“Come _on_ ,” Carlos wheedles. “You were the real star of the show. Come on, let me be a nice boyfriend for once.”

One of Seb’s aunts makes an _oooooooh_ noise like they’re first graders being called to the principal’s office, which admittedly is very funny.

(And if, on the way out, Carlos barely manages to stay upright when Seb kisses him goodbye… that stays between them.)

**Author's Note:**

> comments and kudos are, as always, appreciated.  
> find me on tumblr, my main is [@perseusjaxon](https://perseusjaxon.tumblr.com) and my hsmtmts blog is [@rinaseblos](https://rinaseblos.tumblr.com)!


End file.
